


Threads of An Old Life

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Little Èowyn, Théoden is a good dad, Uncle-Niece Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Éowyn is brave but sometimes she misses her mother terribly.At least her uncle is still there when she needs someone to comfort her.





	Threads of An Old Life

**Author's Note:**

> Théoden is the best Dad. Even to children who aren’t actually his. I think he deserves more credit for that. 
> 
> (Denethor could learn a thing or two from him...)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy :)

Her new nursemaid was a kindly old woman. 

Éowyn sometimes missed Aldwena, who had helped to care for her since she was a little baby, but Madam Waerdoina was gentle and fair, and she always made sure that Éowyn was kept healthy and happy.

“Such pretty golden hair, my lovely girl.” The plump old nursemaid cooed to little Éowyn as she carefully brushed out the girl’s long flaxen locks after she’d been bathed, dried, and dressed for bed. “You’ll grow to be a beautiful princess, I’m sure.”

“I don’t want to be a princess.” Éowyn frowned, her bottom lip poking out in a pitiful pout. “I’m a warrior!” 

Waerdoina only laughed, kissing the child’s head. “Oh little dear,” She smiled at her charge, setting the comb and brush aside. “Ye’ve a stout heart, indeed. Now, come. Off to bed with ye. Little ladies need their rest.”

Éowyn obeyed, climbing under her covers and hugging her doll tightly while Waerdoina blew out the lamp at her bedside.

“Goodnight, little love.” The nurse bid her young charge, then stepping out of the room and closing the door softly behind her.

Éowyn had been living in the Golden Halls at Edoras for nearly a year now. Yet still, she felt like a stranger in the night. When all light had gone from her bedchamber and the hinges on her wardrobe hissed and creaked and the wind whispered just beyond the wall behind her, the little girl was terribly frightened. It was as if she were lying out in a field somewhere in the wild lands far to the North, or curled up near the edge of the dreaded Fangorn Forest.

Many nights before, she was brave and unmoved by the terrors that lurked in the dark. However, there were some nights when she simply could not bear to be alone.

This was such a night. Éowyn felt so exposed and unprotected and she knew full well that if she called out for her mother, Théodwyn would not answer, nor would she come to comfort her child.

Perhaps it was knowing this that drove her to seek another’s comfort on these nights when her bravery faltered. 

She had often braved the dark and all of its horrible creaks and taps many times. That wasn’t what bothered her so much anymore. It was the cold and empty feeling of being alone and without her mother that Éowyn could never strike down.

So this night, when such thoughts were plaguing her mind, she quietly slipped from her bed and tiptoed to her bedroom door, still holding her doll tightly in one arm.

From her bedchamber, she made her way slowly down the hall to the very last door, and with her little hands she pushed the massive oaken doors open without so much as a squeak. 

The King remained fast asleep and snoring away peacefully as his niece hurried across his chamber floor and stood then at his bedside, her eyes big and pleading as she gently prodded his shoulder. “Uncle?” She whispered. “Uncle? Are you awake?”

Théoden’s snoring ceased and his eyes slowly came open to look upon his sweet sister’s daughter. “Éowyn?” He muttered, his groggy and heavy with sleep. “What are you doing out of bed, Éowyn?”

The child’s big blue eyes began to water as she looked upon the King. 

“I miss Mumma.” She whimpered sadly, and Théoden let go a heavy sigh, his heart tearing for the poor girl.

“Come here, little one.” He told Èowyn. “You may stay with me tonight.”

The small girl, sniffling and teary eyed, accepted the invitation and crawled up into the King’s bed, snuggling up close to her uncle once she had settled beneath the blankets.

She began to drift off then, hugging her doll in one arm and placing her other hand into the King’s hair, and gripping several strands of it carefully, as she had done to her mother’s when she had been alive. However strange the habit may have been, it always helped little Éowyn to sleep, so Théoden said nothing against it, even if it was more than a little uncomfortable for him.

“Goodnight, Uncle.” The King heard his sweet niece yawn just behind him.

He smiled fondly and shut his eyes once more to sleep. “Goodnight, dear child.” He answered her. “May merry dreams find you.”


End file.
